


Afterglow

by mystiri1



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M, Post-Coital
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-11
Updated: 2011-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney's not one for just enjoying the afterglow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Afterglow

“Oh, God. We're all going to die.”

“Huh?” John managed. While it lacked the... emphasis that Rodney's predictions of certain doom usually held, actually sounding just a little bit smug, it wasn't what he was expecting to hear just at the moment.

“You. Me. I – I think we can both agree that I save Atlantis on a regular basis with my brain, but you – I think you killed several brain cells. Those might be brain cells we need at some point in the future! Therefore, we are all going to die.” The more Rodney spoke, the more he regained the sense of urgency John was used to when he said these things, and his hands waved about in the air, enough to rock the mattress. John turned his head to look at him, because this really wasn't the sort of reaction he was expecting.

Rodney looked slightly shell-shocked. When he finished speaking, his hands dropped, and he blinked up at the ceiling, looking like he was about two seconds from really freaking out. It wasn't the gay thing – Rodney had admitted to some experimenting in college that might, in his own words, have been less 'experimenting' and more 'total debauchery' – which led John to believe it was more that it was more a 'John and Rodney having sex' thing.

“Well, I'm flattered – I think – but I'm sure your brain survived just fine, Rodney. I don't think sex can actually kill brain cells.” He'd been at least a little prepared for a full-blown Rodney freak-out, and he'd been more worried about the sort of arguments that had stopped him from making a move all this time: things like the fact that they were on the same team, and needed to be able to work together no matter what happened. He'd also expected it to have the decency to wait for the morning after, when such incidents usually happened, but Rodney was nothing if not precocious. “In fact, I think it improves circulation, or something. “

Rodney gave him a look.

John shrugged, although it was rather less effective as an expression when they were laying side-by-side on Rodney's prescription mattress. “One of my exes claimed it helped when she had a headache.”

“I thought headaches were supposed to be an excuse _not_ to have sex.” Rodney frowned. “And I don't think that sex is going to miraculously solve the problems we're having with the sewage plants, or the power distrib- Huh.”

John was familiar with that sound. It was the sort of 'huh' sound that Rodney made when he'd had an idea, and sometimes it meant that he was, indeed, about to come up with something that saved all of their lives, and sometimes it just meant that half the science department would be driven to tears trying to understand something that Rodney insisted was blindingly obvious.

Most often, it meant that Rodney was about to lose himself in his work, and that proved true when he rolled out of bed and padded over to his desk, still naked and slightly sticky. He flipped open the laptop there – his favourite, John knew, although he'd never managed to get Rodney to explain what made that one better than the others – and started tapping away at the keys like he'd forgotten that John was even there.

“Most people just fall asleep at this point,” John informed the ceiling.

The ceiling didn't reply. Neither did Rodney.

John rolled over. If Rodney wasn't coming back to bed, then that was even more reason not to sleep in the wet spot.

But in the morning, he was totally taking credit for the apparently inspirational sex.


End file.
